Markers
by HYPERPISCES
Summary: Markers and couchtickling. What more can I say?


Authors Note: This is just kind of random fluff. I found a picture on the internet of Greg with markers stuck up his nose and this is the result. It's not really Greg/Sara, it's more of a brother/sister thing.

Disclaimer: I forgot to put one on my other story so I don't own CSI or CSI: Miami and I'm not making any money off these stories so I won't ever be able to buy them. sigh

"Stop it Greg!" whined Sara as she reached across the table, trying to reach the young lab tech. "I need those." He jumped back and stood just beyond her reach. Sara took a swipe at him, missed, and knocked a pile of reports off the table. She started to walk towards him, ignoring the papers all over the floor. Greg was laughing so hard that he almost fell over the couch.

"Wait, wait. Stop," he sputtered. Sara paused. "I'll give them back to you if you say the magic word," offered Greg, spreading his hands out to the sides. "See. No fingers crossed."

"Fine," said Sara. "Greg, may I please have my markers back?" Greg shook his head and burst into another fit of laughter. Sara stamped her foot. "You said you would give them back!" She put her hands on her hips and glared at the young man.

"I said I would give them back if you said the magic word", he crowed, "and you said please!"

"You're gonna get it," growled Sara, reaching for a magazine and throwing it in the general direction of his head. Greg ducked and slipped on a piece of paper. He crashed onto the couch, still laughing his head off. _This calls for drastic measures_, thought Sara. She slumped into a chair, looking defeated, and layed her head down on her arms. Her shoulders began to shake. Greg stopped laughing and sat up.

"Sara?" he asked tentatively. She didn't answer. Greg got up and slowly went over to the table. He stood behind her, biting his lip. "Sara, I'm sorry," he apologized, laying a hand on her shaking shoulder. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

"You didn't." Her voice was muffled by her arms.

"What?" Greg stepped back. A hand shot out and grabbed his arm before he could go any farther.

"You didn't make me cry," explained the brunette CSI calmly as she got up from her chair. She started to walk towards the couch, pushing Greg ahead of her as she went. "I wasn't really crying. It was a trick. And you fell for it." Greg felt the wooden arm of the couch pressing against the back of his leg. His eyes darted back and forth, searching for an escape route, a friend to help him, anything. "And now you're going to pay." Sara grinned evilly as she pushed Greg onto the couch.

"Sara. Come on. Have mercy," he begged. Sara sat on him. "If you kill me, who will get your DNA samples tested?" Sara just grinned wider. He tried a different approach. "Who will make the coffee?" Sara reached for his arms. Greg was desperate now. "Come on. What would people say if they found out that you had murdered your lab tech." Sara started to tickle him. "Oh god! Stop! Stop you evil woman!" Greg twisted and flailed, trying to get free. Nothing worked. It was hopeless.

At that very moment, Gil Grissom, the two CSI's supervisor, was walking down the hall. He walked past the break room. He stopped. He backed up a few steps and rubbed his eyes before turning to look into the room. He saw Greg lying on the couch, laughing so hard he was almost in tears. He saw Sara sitting on top of him, doing... No. She couldn't be. Tickling him? Grissom needed a closer look. He entered the break room, just in time to hear Sara threaten Greg.

"Maybe I should tell Grissom. I'm sure he would love to hear all about it."

"I'm sure he would," said Grissom, coming farther into the room. Startled, the two CSI's turned to see him standing there, arms folding across his chest. They both jumped up. Sara looked around for something to stare at, anything other than her supervisors face. She settled for the floor. Greg blushed an intense shade of red. They both looked like little kids who had just been caught doing something their parents had forbidden.

"Just WHAT is going on in here. This is a break room, not a zoo."

"He start–,"

"It was her fau--"

"Enough!" Grissom shook his head. "I've changed my mind. I don't want to know." He turned to leave. "Oh," he said, turning back for one last look at the scene. The floor was covered in papers. The couch was tilted at on odd angle. "Clean this mess up. And Greg." The young man braced himself, expecting a severe punishment. "Take those markers out of your nose."

Review if you feel like it. Please! hugs reader 


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